


Gordon’s fun tropical vacation

by NiamhofTirnanOg



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Half-Life
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Crack, Explicit Language, Kind of Lost inspired, MerMay, MerMay2020, OOC, but I’ve never seen Lost so, mermaid au, shipwrecked au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiamhofTirnanOg/pseuds/NiamhofTirnanOg
Summary: A trip to the Black Mesa Triangle™ on a science expedition goes awry when their ship sinks. Gordon gets stranded on a deserted island with the few others who survived the wreck, and an annoying mermaid. Merman. Whatever.Maybe if he closes his eyes he can pretend this is all just part of a tropical vacation....
Comments: 14
Kudos: 104





	1. Lost without a Paddle

**Author's Note:**

> So heads up I haven't written anything in years. Used to get good grades in English but that was yonks ago. Please forgive me for any terrible writing lol. 
> 
> The only reason I wrote this because it's Mermay and felt the Black Mesa Sweet voice fit as a sort of Siren song thing. 
> 
> Not Beta read, we die like men
> 
> Edit: changed the name, the old one sucked.

Gordon tried not to heave as the orange rubber lifeboat bobbed back and forth.  
His companions, the only other survivors of the shipwreck, babbled back and forth, a cascade of rambling nonsense, that only made his rising nausea harder to ignore. Behind them, far in the distance, the smoking remains of the Aurora Borealis sank slowly into the sea. 

When he tried to think about HOW this all happened, hazy recollections of being woken up by a stranged high pitched singing voice came to mind, followed by the blaring of alarms, and a frantic race to the lifeboats. When he came back to his senses, he was already drifting out to sea, amongst his new companions, Dr Coomer, Tommy and… Bubby? That could not be his real name. Whatever. He hoped that he wouldn’t be stuck out here with them for too long. He just had to survive a few hours tops, and then he would be sailing home, back to his son Joshua and a decidedly normal life. He tried not to think too much about all his colleagues who would no longer be able to do that. He’d save that thought for therapy. 

He refused to think about how often ships and planes went missing in this corner of the sea, colloquially known as “The Black Mesa Triangle™”, the lesser known version of the Bermuda Triangle. The Aurora Borealis had come through the area to research why the area was such a hotbed of disappearances. Figures it too would succumb to its reputation. 

He leant over the side of the boat, taking deep lungfuls of air, his eyes closed tight.  
It’s no surprise he ends up overboard when the boat suddenly rocks.  
He has just enough time to hear Tommy scream “Mr Freeman!” before a rush of seawater floods his ears, and he starts tumbling down into the freezing depths, the cold of the ocean paralysing his body.

Gordon tries to squeeze his eyes open, blinking at the sting of salt, seeing nothing but a dark void. Jesus, how far had he sunk already? He tries to figure out which way is up, feebly kicking his legs, but his body is still numb. His chest starts burning, it’s getting harder to hold his breath, he hasn't had a chance to take in air before his surprise swim, he knows it’s only a matter of time before his body forces him to breathe in.

Panic sets in, and he starts flailing, kicking about in every direction. His arm hits something, and his eyes shoot open again, as his arm erupts in pain. Something is fucking biting his arm.  
He looks over and HOLY SHIT that is a FUCKING SHARK englufing his FUCKING arm!  
His mouth opens in a scream as he thrashes, and his lungs fill with water. His vision starts fading out. The last thing he remembers before he passes out, is a flash of blue light and a voice saying...

“Hey. Hey, what happened to your arm”

Gordon awoke to a throbbing pain in his arm, and the taste of salt in his mouth.He REALLY needed a drink. He shifts his head a bit, raising his good arm to block out the glare of the sun.  
A shadow passed over him and spoke;  
“Ah! Hello Gordon! I see you’re finally awake!”

Dr Coomer. 

He coughed a bit and tried to reply. “Whe- Where am I?”

“Well Gordon, it appears we have found ourselves upon a deserted island! Your good friend Benry helpfully led us here after he fished you out of the ocean like a crane game prize!”

Gordon stopped to think a bit.

“Who the FUCK is Benry?”

“Sup man.”

It’s then he realises his head is lying on somebody's lap. He jerks up and shuffles away, or as much as he can with one arm. He turns to face the man whose lap he was using as a pillow and stops.  
What.  
The Fuck.

From the wait up, the man for all intents and purposes looks perfectly normal. He seems to be wearing some kind of security guard set up, and a strangely shaped helmet, looks a lot like THEIR security guards outfit actually, got the logo and everything. From the waist down however… 

“Is… Is this real, am I looking at a fucking mermaid right now?!”

“Gordon, I believe the correct term is ‘MerMAN’”

“Coomer, Coomer, that is absolutely irrelevant right now are you SEEING this?!”

“Of course I see this Gordon! Do you?”

“Yo Man you gotta calm down.” The merman butts in, voice deadpan, as if this whole thing is just boring to him. He picks at his nose with one long clawed nail. 

“Calm? CALM?! We are SHIPWRECKED, and a, a goddamned MYTHICAL creature is sitting in front of me, you know what, This isn’t real. NONE of this is real, I’m gonna wake up at home and-”

It’s at this moment Benry sings, shooting some blue glowing balls at him. Suddenly, Gordon feels a wave of calm wash over him.  
“I uh- what. What did you do to me?” He wants to panic, but finds himself unable to.

“What?” 

“Dude, what did you do to me, please, please tell me”

“Uhh, you mean The Black Mesa Sweet Voice™? It’s cool man.”

“I-” Gordon realises that this isn’t getting anywhere. He sighs, and slumps back onto the creature's lap. It’s comfier than the damp sand, and he doesn’t want to brush sand out of his hair later anyway. It’s fine. “Whatever, I don’t care anymore.” 

“Hey man, what’s your problem.”

“Shut up.” He looks over to where Dr Coomer is still standing.

Dr Coomer hovers over them, staring blankly into the distance. He makes a 180 turn just as Tommy and Bubby appear. 

“Ah, I see you have found us some Firewood! With this we can start a fire!”

Tommy bounces over, dumping his armful of sticks onto the sand. “Mr Freeman! Y-You’re awake! Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Tommy, just, just my arm is hurting a bit. Do you not find this strange?” Gordon gestures wildly to Benry. 

“What do you mean Mr Freeman? Is- Is there something wrong?”

“Gordon, Benry is a fine upstanding member of the security team, I don’t know what the fuck your are talking about” Bubby says as he sets the pile of sticks on fire. With his mind apparently. This is fine. 

“I don’t know man, I’m pretty sure we would have heard if we had a mermaid on the fucking security team-“ Gordon sputters our, before being interrupted by Coomer.

“Careful Gordon! Fires can be dangerous!” H- STAHP” Coomer momentarily steps in the fire and screams. 

Gordon just groans. He hopes this is just a really bad dream. He probably ate too much junk food after pulling an all nighter, it’s fine. 

“Do you think we’ll find some soda on this deserted island Dr Coomer?”

“Why, anything is possible Tommy!”

Gordon tries to close his eyes again, but can feel Benry staring.  
He does his best to ignore it as he drifts to sleep, hoping that once he wakes up, he’ll be back home in his own bed, and everything will be normal.


	2. The KitKat debate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, Gordon wakes up to find that none of what happened was a dream. Poor him. 
> 
> Authors comment:   
> Don’t mind me showing up late with a Starbucks in hand, slurp.

For once, Gordon would have loved to be woken up early by Joshua, the ear shattering chimes of “wake up Da Da” would have been MUSIC to his ears. No, instead, he had to listen to a bunch of his coworkers arguing about… something. 

  
  
  


Fucking Fantastic. 

He groans and goes to sit up, hissing when he uses the wrong hand. 

Oh fuck. 

His hand. 

In the chaos of finding out that mermaids exist, he hadn’t thought about his hand. His hand that had been mauled by a goddamned SHARK. 

Wincing, he goes to gently pull his wrist towards him, assessing the damage. The science team, as he’s dubbed them, seems to have done a halfway decent job of wrapping it in bandages, but blood is oozing through. He really, really, does not want to see what’s under there. 

Thoughts of the damage being so bad that he loses the use of his whole hand flash through his brain and he shudders, starting to breathe heavily. “Breathe Gordon, breathe.” He mutters, he can not risk breaking down right now. He grounds himself. Right now, he’s sitting under a… orange tarp? Ok that one thing,two, he seems to have been moved to a nest of scrap cloth and ragged moth eaten blankets, three, the mermaid is gone- wait, the mermaid is gone!

Gordon whips his head around. He seems to be alone under the makeshift shelter, and outside he can only see the other scientists, still loudly arguing. Benrey is nowhere to be seen.

Did he… did he imagine all that yesterday. Can blood loss cause auditory and visual hallucinations? He doesn’t know, he’s not a medical doctor but, that seems… plausible? 

That’s… good. It’s good, he has one less thing to lose his mind over. Shipwrecks are one thing, magically singing security guard mermaids are another. Would have been better if it had ALL been a dream, but Gordon will accept the small victories when he can get them.

“Thank fuck.” Gordon sighs, and carefully pulls himself from out under the shelter. Looking closer, he realises the orange ‘tarp’ is, in fact, shredded pieces of the lifeboat they escaped on. 

“Guys, please tell me you didn’t shred a perfectly good, functional lifeboat for this. Please.” 

  
  


“Ah, Good morning Gordon! I see you are admiring our shelter! 

A shelter is a basic architectural structure or building that provides protection from the local environment!

I learned it from Wikipedia, the free online encyclopaedia that anybody can edit!” 

“Right, of course Doctor Coomer, but uh, you haven’t told me, why you used our, from what I remember, perfectly intact boat for this?!” 

“It’s, it’s in the guidelines Mr Freeman! Didn’t you read the employee handbook on what to do in a- an emergency?” Tommy fiddled with his fingers, voice high and nervous. Or maybe that just how he sounded? Gordon didn’t know the dude well enough before this all went down. 

“The employees handbook.” Gordon said, voice flat. 

“Told you to shred up a perfectly fine boat. A boat we could have used to get back off this island.”

Gordon took in a deep breath of air and closed his eyes. 

“The employees handbook. Told you t- to do that?” 

“Y-Yep!

“Yes!”

“Yes, now stop being a bitch and come help us, you lazy ass.” 

Of all the people to be stuck with on a deserted island. Keep calm Gordon. Keep calm. He’s had much, much worse coworkers than this, and he didn’t depend on those guys to survive. He can play it cool. Gordon Coolman. God he hoped he didn’t say that out loud. 

“So uh, what were you fellas arguing over, is something wrong?

“What’s wrong is that Harold is being a bitch, and won’t say I’m right!” 

“Now now, Professor-“

“Doctor.” Bubby interrupted. 

“-Bubby here simply doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong!” 

“Right. Of course, but, what exactly is it you two are arguing over?”

“We are cordially debating whether or not a KitKat bar is a cookie or a biscuit! Obviously, it is a cookie!”

“It’s a a fucking biscuit you donkey!”

Although he was still smiling jovially, Coomer looked dangerously close to decking Bubby in the face. Gordon needed to defuse the situation, fast, before someone died. 

“Guys. There are better things for us to worry about. Like getting off this damn island.”

“Hmm, well, I do suppose you’re correct Gordon. Proving who’s right can wait.”

“And obviously it’s me. But I can wait to prove that.” Bubby sniffed. 

Gordon and Tommy both sighed in relief. Right, they could get to work surviving. He’s pretty sure they don’t have any food, other than scant few supplies stored in the lifeboat for emergency situations. 

They needed to start scavenging for food before sundown. 

They could do that.

“It’s neither by the way. It’s a chocolate bar.” He added. Like an idiot. 

The resulting argument lasted until it started getting dark. 

  
  


Tommy had gotten tired of trying to calm everybody down a while ago and was doing his best to fashion a sling out of various scrap cloth for Gordon’s arm, and interrupted his KitKat stupor. 

After coming out of the heated argument, Gordon felt dazed. At some point the argument had pivoted to being about the definition of biscuits versus cookies, and then about that stale ass dry bread with gravy you got at popeyes for… some reason?! Was it a scone? Was it a biscuit? Was it bread? What did it have to do with KitKats?! Gordon didn’t know. Gordon didn’t care. He realised they had wasted the whole damn day arguing about bloody KitKat bars, and almost certainly, had missed their chance to go out and find food. 

Unless, of course, they wanted to venture into the island's wilderness at night. Gordon definitely did not. No dark wilderness for Gordon, thank you. 

“Fuck, guys, uh, we have a problem.”

“Gordon! The only problem I see here is you being a sore loser!”

“W- no Doctor Coomer, I mean, we don’t have a lot of food right?”

“Why don't we head into the wilderness and find some wildlife to wrestle! I once fought a bear you know.” 

“And lost. You could go look for some Gordon, if you weren’t being a pussy.” 

Tommy looked up from where he had been adjusting the sling around Gordon’s arm.

“B- But Mr Freeman’s arm is hurt :(“ 

God bless Tommy.

“Bubby, my arm is literally useless right now. And anway, I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea to go out while it’s still dark.”

“Then perish.” Bubby retorted. 

“There there Dr Pussy, we’ll just have to go wrestle a boar tomorrow!” 

Gordon resisted the urge to scream, and stomped away, toward the sea. The sea was dark but peaceful, the full moon reflected off the water, perfectly mirroring the view. It was… nice.

He let the breeze tangle through his hair and took a deep breath of the salty air. He supposed there were worse islands to be stranded on. The island was big, and full of natural resources. Not too far from where they had set up camp, there was the mouth of a river, which surely meant they could follow it to find fresh water. Things would be fine. They could survive this. They just had to hold out until a plane flew by, o- or a boat. 

Just don’t think about how unlikely that is. Don’t.

Definitely don’t think about never seeing your son again. Bad brain. Think about kittens… which you’ll also never see again. Fuck. He was shit at this. Remember what they taught you in therapy Gordon. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stop thinking. 

  
  


Gordan almost feels like he’s centred himself when he’s suddenly, (and rudely) doused with a spray of cold water. 

He gasps, and barely has the presence of mind to dodge several falling objects. They land with a loud slap against the sand and on closer inspection, they seem to be… fish? 

“What the…”

“Sup, Feetman.” 

“FUCK” Gordon bear jumps half a foot in the air from surprise. 

Benrey’s slightly offshore, a large shark’s carcass flung across his shoulder, watching Gordon with glowing eyes. 

Alright. He wasn’t a blood loss induced hallucination then. Wonderful. He surges forwards, wiggling onto the sand, and rather than get stuck, he seems to be able to fluidly move across it, almost like a snake or something. He rises up on his long, long tail, curling the rest around him, and dumps the shark next to the dead fish pile.

“Food is serrrrrved.” He grins, and Gordon sees teeth that remind him of the ones that had been clamped around his arm. 

“We got big juicy burgers and 5 french fry, come get ya food.”

The very end of his tail slaps the ground. It would almost be cute, if it were, idk, a dog or something. Instead it’s a half security guard half sea serpent. So. Not cute. Not cute at all. 

Maybe just a little cute. 

Gordon can’t help but stare, even as the rest of the team bounds over. Strictly  _ scientifically _ speaking, Benrey is a natural marvel. When he saw him the other day, Gordon hadn’t noticed too much other than the obvious tail, too woozy from

blood loss to focus on much else. Seeing him again, more clearly under the full moon and without the haze of his body almost shutting down from shock, he’s almost… beautiful. Radiant. Literally. Other than his glowing eyes, he gives off a faint bioluminescence, emitting from his skin where he hasn’t covered it with his uniform.

Looking down towards his tail, other than being stupidly long, Gordon noticed how the deep blue scales sparkled under the moonlight, tiny fractals of colour shining like… like an opal? He wasn’t a geologist, so he wasn’t sure, but that was the rock that had a multicolour sparkle to it, right? 

It was kind of hypnotic actually, watching the patterns shift on Benrey’s scales. 

He watches, entranced, for much longer than he should have.

It takes a tap on his shoulder from a concerned Tommy to snap him out of it. 

“Uh, are you ok Mr Freeman?”

“Oh shit, uh, yeah I’m fine Tommy, I’m just Uh-“

Shit, he really doesn’t want to explain why he was staring down benrey so hard. 

“I was Uh, feeling a little dizzy, y’know, because of the hand.” He gestures, pointlessly. They all know about the hand. There is no one here who DOESN’T know about his hand. Gordan Freeman smart hours.

His genius bluff clearly didn’t work to convince Benrey, as he sees him smirk.

“You like what you see uh, gay boy? Uh Gayden Feetman?” 

Benrey bends down, hovering over Gordon. 

“Your uh, little baby boo boo bothering you? Want Benny Boy to kiss it better?”

Gordon goes to retort with a very firm “No, thank you very much!” But is stopped by a sudden beam of green and teal into his face. It tastes salty but sweet, and it’s cold, like an ice cream. Gordon splutters a moment, and completely misses the moment when Benrey stoops further down to plant a gentle peck on his arm. 

“What the fuck was that light show about?!”

“Oh I know what that is Mr Freeman! I can- I can read this for you!”

“Read?!”

“Teal and green means ‘heal beam!’ That’s good Mr Freeman, it- it should help your arm feel better :)” 

… Well. Gordon’s arm did hurt a significant margin less than it did before. 

As much as he would have preferred more of a warning before Benrey tried to ‘kiss it better’, he did appreciate it. He sighed. He would be a dick if he didn’t at least try to thank him, so...

“Uh, Thank you. That really helped a lot.”

“Sweet. Wanna uh, return the favour? Kissy for Benrey?” He tapped his cheek and winked.

Gordan cursed. Of course the merman has got to make things weird after he tried being nice. Fuck. He just doesn’t know what it is about the creature but he continues to infuriate him, even after saving him from that shark, and healing his arm. Wait. 

He glances over at the shark carcass lying on the sand. 

It was all a bit of a blur to remember, blurry vision really not helping, but… it looked eerily similar to the one that had attacked him the other day. He couldn’t be sure though. He wasn’t a marine biologist. 

“Benrey, is tha-“ 

  
  


“GOOD NEWS GORDON! BUBBY AND I HAVE COMMITTED ARSON ON THESE FISH!”

“Oh JesusholyfuckDrCoomer!” Gordon gripped his shirt. Fuck. He was gonna get a heart attack and die, and it would be these fuckers fault. Except Tommy. Tommy was cool. 

“That’s-wheeze- that’s lovely Dr Coomer.”

“Eat up Gordon! I’m quite eager to explore where no man has gone before! We need to keep our strength up for tomorrow!” Coomer continued, handing a still smoking fish on a stick to Gordon. 

“I call dibs on any volcanoes we find.” Bubby spat, as he gnawed flesh off bone. 

“Of course Bubby dear! You can name all the volcanoes on the island!”

“Oooh, ooh, can I, um, can I name any new species of fauna we find?”

“Of course Tommy!”

Kiss request forgotten amongst the chaos of his coworkers calling dibs on naming rights, Gordan sits down to eat. 

If Benrey looks disappointed, nobody notices. He shrugs, and starts tearing strips of flesh off the shark. 

Gordon does his best not to stare at the savage display and averts his eyes. The group sit around the fire, eating slightly burnt fish, long into the night, and eventually drift off. Benrey waits awhile, staring at their sleeping forms, at one specific sleeping form in particular, before silently slithering back into the sea. As much as he’d like to hang out with his new friends, he’s got a job to do. 

In the jungle, a haze of cloudy black smoke stirs. 


End file.
